


The Heat From Your Fingertips

by Sakuraiai



Series: The Box of Prompts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hunt Gone Wrong, Love Confessions, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Not Really Character Death, Pining, Possible Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 15:17:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14751344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sakuraiai/pseuds/Sakuraiai
Summary: Prompt: Pinned down, only fingertips touching.Dean thought this was just a normal run of the mill hunt.He didn't expect the house to collapse.





	The Heat From Your Fingertips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ObsessedAngel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ObsessedAngel/gifts).



> ...blame my darling prompto muse obsessedangel.

It hurt. 

So much, it hurt. 

There was pain  _everywhere._ There was so much, but at the same time, it was slowly going away.  _He_ was going away, he was drifting off, feeling colder and colder, numb to everything around him. 

He could feel his life seeping out of him. He knew the feeling, welcomed it in fact, he had felt it many times before. The pain, white hot, stabbing and vicious. He could no longer pinpoint where it came from, just that it was there. It ached  _so much._ But it was followed by that blessed numb that was washing over him from the tips of his fingers and toes, all the way up his arms and legs, he knew he'd be at peace once it reached his heart. 

It would have been so easy to just succumb to the peace, to let it come over him, let it take over until he was nothing else but a lifeless numb thing. 

But succumbing to it meant death. 

And he could not die right now. 

 _Right?_  

He had a lot to live for. He had to take care of Sammy, he had to stop the apocalypse that would surely loom over them again sometime soon. He had to keep everyone safe, he had to.... he had to tell Cas how he really felt. 

...Sam was being taken care of by an  _archangel_...he was the safest he could ever be. 

...Mum, Bobby and the other hunters that crossed over could easily take care of the world, save it from whatever was going to happen to it.

Both Michael and Lucifer were dead, Chuck was still MIA even after all of that.

And Cas? 

...Cas...was here... _dying_... 

He forced to turn his head, red hot pain bloomed, overtaking the numbness at his neck and shoulders. But he had to do it, if only to see his angel one last time. He was there, looking so...so wonderful and beautiful still. His skin was so pale, his eyes fading and glossing over, his mouth open a little, blood pooling onto the wood his face was pressed against. He wasn't shuddering of shivering like he had been before, he wasn't trying to get out. 

They had both surrendered to their future. 

They were going to die. 

Cas had told him it was dangerous, he had told him that it was stupid to go inside the building, to go after the monster as it writhed and wrung itself as far as it could possibly go. Cas had  _told him._ And yet, he went inside anyway. He needed to save the boy, he needed to...he... 

He hadn't expected the ceiling to collapse. 

He had been trapped first, something had caught his leg, the monster who was still alive, but not kicking, had grasped his ankle and yanked so hard he had fallen flat on his back. Cas had whisked the young boy out, and he hadn't seen. But Dean didn't need him to be there right now, he could do this himself. Reaching for his gun, he had shot the monster in the head. It had screeched and bellowed something awful, and it died, creating a blast wave that made Dean fall onto his back, harsh and hard against the concrete like carpet. The walls around him quivered and quaked as the thing died. 

 _Cas did warn him about this..._  

The floor collapsed first, crumbling under him like used paper. He dropped onto the ground of the bottom floor, gasping as pain bloomed on his back and side. He needed a second to catch his breath, so he took one, before he was amped to get up and run out of the house that would surely collapse over him. 

It took a breath for the ceiling above him to crumble. He saw it, saw the attic come down in stride, saw that god awful white swirl shit that made the ceiling crack. 

He heard Cas's voice calling to him. But it was too late.  

The chandelier fell first, and he saw it hit Cas right on the back, pinning him down with the thousand needle-like gems that he had actually thought was quite cool looking. They had glimmered and shined when he first stepped foot into the house, now they were glimmering with blood and shining with his angels' grace. 

The ceiling collapsed on them both then, pinning him and his angel down onto the ground. The sound had been deafening, but then....slowly...it stopped. 

"D-Dean!" Cas's voice was much more grated than usual and it punched through the silent air 

"C-Ca- _ah_ - _hass_!" Dean tried to call back, but a thick slab of rubble had fallen harshly on his chest and legs, and was stopping him from speaking, giving him enough leeway for breathing. A small miracle of torture, he would be able to feel himself die, but he won't be able to scream for help.  

He hated Cas for his self-sacrificing ways, he hated that Cas had had the heart to come back inside when he had been safe outside, where he had been  _safe._ It was because he had been following Dean for all of these years, and it was because Cas was just that kind of person. 

He was good. And much like Dean, he wouldn't let anyone get hurt. He was going to save as many people as possible, even if it killed him in while doing so. Fucking son of a bitch. He was just too  _good._ And Dean loved him for it. 

They had all had their fair share of deaths, they had both been to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, where else were they to go now that they were finally here, together, dying. 

He wished he had told Cas how he had really felt about him. Not the bullshit he always sprouted about Cas being 'family' and shit. No, Cas _was_ family, but he was so much more than just that. Sure, Dean had seen him like a brother, at first, but there was always,  _always_ more there. And as the years grew, when he had  _lost_ Cas, he knew it for what it was. 

He loved Cas. 

Undoubtedly, reverently, irrevocably.  

There was no denying it anymore. And when Cas came back... 

But now they were here, both pinned down, barely an arms width away, both dying.  

And he knew it was all because of him, of his righteousness, of his self sacrifice, of his need to keep everyone safe. How could he do this? How could he have hurt the one thing he cared about so much after his brother. 

Cas was dying...because of him. 

He didn't feel the tears escaping his eyes, but he saw Cas looking at him. He was at peace, his breathing a little laboured, his arm was inching out, crawling along the dusty and debris wood, fingers stretching as far as it could. 

"Dean," 

And it was just that, that one little thing, the way Cas was saying his name, with so much pain, with so much  _love._ It gave Dean hope, it gave him the blessed relief that Cas loved him too, that Cas loved him back. 

"Cas," He gasped back, hoping and wishing Cas understood, that Cas knew just what he was trying to portray.  

With struggle, he slowly pulled his arm out from where it was trapped next to him. He needed to touch Cas, just a little. He needed to feel his angel just a little before they finally died. Before whoever wrenched him and Cas apart. 

Dean wasn’t going to heaven, he knew that. But he also knew Cas was going straight to the Empty, like he had before. 

This might be the last time they saw one another. 

He reached out, shoving down the pain, stretching his hand as far as it could go. His gaze never leaving Cas's beautiful blues. God, he had loved those eyes, they held so much power, so much grace. He knew Jimmy had blue eyes, but Cas's eyes...there was something so different about them. He was  _sure_ he could see Cas's real form, his true form, the Chrysler building size of him radiate from those eyes. 

He was so beautiful. From the moment Dean had seen him in the barn all the way to now, he knew he was meant just for Cas, and Cas for him. Cas had told him it was a profound bond, and sure at first, he had brushed it off, he had called it stupid, dumb, there was no way an _angel_ had bonded with him, there was no way an _angel_ would go through so much to save him. 

Yet now,  _now,_ looking into those beautiful blues, he was glad, he was so happy to have met Cas all those years ago. He was glad for their bond. 

He stretched out more, the strain in his arm and shoulders pale compared to the pain in his heart, the need that told him he  _had_ to touch Cas, just one last time. 

Their fingers touched, just barely brushing, but the shockwave of those cooling fingers against his own, the touch so simple, so scant. It felt so wondrous. Dean may have lost all hope that he was going to survive this, but now he had Cas here with him. 

He gasped out his breaths, laboured as they were, and tried to move closer, though he wanted to touch Cas more, wanted to reach forward and grasp Cas's hand, wanted the house that was looming over them to disappear, wanted to pull Cas in close, and hold him, to never let him go.

This was all he was going to get. 

This was enough. 

So many years had passed, they had so much time...yet...no more. 

"Dean..." Cas wheezed, blood was pooling up over his head, matting his pretty hair, marring his pale skin. The red was a stark contrast from the pale white of his skin, the gorgeous blue of his eyes. "I... I'm sorry," 

No...no, he did not want the last words he heard Cas say to be 'I'm sorry', there was nothing for Cas to be sorry about, there was  _nothing_ Cas had to apologise for. 

He shook his head, feeling the ache against his head. "No... Cas, I...I'm sorry," 

It wasn't enough, it would never be enough. He needed days, months, years, centuries to tell Cas just what he really felt about the angel. He wanted to say  _so much._ But...but he didn't know how to start. 

So, he said the only thing he could think of then, the only thing that was always so prominent in his mind when he saw Cas, every time he materialised in and invaded his personal space, every time he stared, wishing and wanting to know more about Dean, every time he said his name. 

It was easy to do it now, when he knew he had nothing to lose. 

"I love you, Cas," 

Those beautiful eyes widened, the black eating away at the blue, before he saw the tears pool and fall, dripping into the blood. The gasping, grating sound of Cas smiling, laughing. It was so beautiful, even though there was a punch of groans along with the laughter. 

And then...and then.... 

"I love you too, Dean," 

 _Blessed...relief..._  

It shouldn't have hurt this much. 

To think...they could have had something, they could have done something about this. But instead, they were here, fingers brushing, barely touching, murmuring words of their affections while pain laced through them both. Looking into his eyes, those tear-filled eyes, he was desperate to reach out and run his fingers over those soft cheeks, wipe away his tears, feel his warmth, his love. 

It should have been this way. 

He gasped as he saw Cas shuffle a little on his front, cheek grating against the floor, blood spilling out a little more from his mouth. He reached, locking the tips of their fingers together, curling his hand as much as he could. The shockwave appeared once again, the heat of his cooling fingers like a pleasant bolt of electricity. And Dean felt so much lighter, so much better, so... _much._ It was such a familiar warm feeling, like little dusting sprinkles of electricity passing through him, washing over him and settling deep in his stomach, deep in his heart. 

Wait... _wait_...no... _stop_... _no_... 

"Sto-stop try-trying to he-heal me!" Dean gasped, gazing down at their hands, where Cas's grace shone a brilliant white against his pale,  _so pale,_ skin. Even with his death eminent, Cas was trying to save him, using up every last part of him to save someone like Dean Winchester. An angel... _his_ angel. 

He wanted to yank his hand away, to stop Cas, but he didn't want to lose the feel of Cas's hands against his own. He didn't want to stop touching his angel. 

"Please...Dean..." Cas's breath was so much more laboured now, the chandelier jingled like some morbid mobile chiming against the wind. Dean could see where he had tried to push up against the chandelier, tried to pry it off him, he could see the blood on the spears that made the chandelier, could see how they had pierced into his skin, his flesh, and how he hadn't been able to go any further. 

He could fly away...he could...he could go, he could save himself.  _Please God, please...just let him live._  

"C-Cas! No...please...don't...please go," Dean tried, holding onto the falling remnants on his life. He  _needed_ Cas to live, he...Cas could not die...not when...not when he had so much to live for. 

Cas shook his head, the chandelier jingled above him. "Not...not without....you..." He breathed out painfully, reaching out to grasp Dean's hand tighter.  

The cold was back, as was the numbness. But he was feeling such blessed warmth from their touch, from their fingertips touching. Dean couldn't stop looking at Cas, couldn't stop staring into those beautiful eyes. Taking in his gorgeous features. 

How had he been so stupid to take so long? 

The darkness swept over him, bleeding into his eyes. He felt so cold, so frozen solid, still and paralysed by the pain. But those gorgeous blue eyes watched him, filled with their own pain, those hands reached for him, the last of his grace dying out on Dean's fingers. 

When Castiel's eyes finally closed, and Dean could no longer feel the heat of his touch, and the weight of his hands, he let out a small, final tear, and his eyes closed to. 

 _Thank you...Cas..._  

 _I_ _love you..._  

 

 _Where..._ _?_  

Dean's eyes opened, his heart beating like a jackrabbit. Looking around, he saw he was in his bedroom, the covers pulled up to his chest. There was a small strip of light under his closed door, and he knew it was night. He could hear people shuffling on the other side of the door, and he knew they were talking about him. 

And then everything happened in a blur. 

Soon Dean found himself in his brothers embrace, listening to Sam tell him how stupid he was, how much of an idiot he had been, running back inside. How worried he had been when both him and Cas hadn't returned, how they had seen the house collapse and couldn't find them. How Gabriel had destroyed everything and anything around him in order to find them. 

Cas... 

Where was Cas? 

"He's still resting," Gabriel answered for him, pointing to the other room. "I gave him a full boost, he should be up soon," 

Dean nodded, the breath he had been holding since he stepped foot into that god-awful house finally escaping. He was here, he was fine,  _Cas was fine._  

It felt like hours later when Sam and Gabriel finally left him to rest. But he didn't want to. He waited for them to leave the hallway, before he got up from the bed. He wanted to see Cas, he  _had_ to see Cas.  

But it seemed Cas had the same thoughts. He appeared at Dean's door, pushing it open and looking inside. The lights were low, dim and dark, but Dean saw those eyes, he saw the beautiful blue looking so brighter now, so wonderful. 

And then Cas said his name. 

"Hello, Dean." 

Dean cornered him against the wall, staring at him and those penetrating eyes, he had lost the ability to breathe, lost his voice. Cas was here, he was safe. And he wasn't going to go anywhere, no way was there going to be a moment where Dean couldn't reach him. 

It had been pure agony not being able to touch Cas, but now... _now._.. 

Dean leaned in close, their faces dangerously close to one another. Sure, they had been this close before, but this was different. He could feel the heat and the power swirling inside Cas, felt the hard toned body against his. 

Now their lips were barely touching, brushing like butterfly wings, his quickening breath tickled Dean's face. Dean reached up then, needing to touch Cas. He cupped those cheeks, they were kissed by the sun, no longer pale, his other hand ran around Cas's waist, dragging him close until they were pressed together. 

He felt their profound bond, their  _love,_ felt it like a burning fire. 

Castiel smiled, his cheeks turning a pale pink when he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Dean. Oh god, Dean had thought he was pretty from the first moment he saw Cas, but god, right now he was simply the most beautiful man Dean had ever seen. His mouth parted slightly as his gaze lowered to Cas's lips, feeling a sudden urge to kiss him. 

“You're here,” he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you so much, Cas." 

Cas's eyes fluttered open and Dean felt a tug at his chest. Even in the darkness of his room, Cas's blue red eyes were so bright and lovely; so gorgeous. He looked away then, his face flaring up in apparent embarrassment.  

"I love you too, Dean," He murmured back, tugging at the hem of his shirt –  _Dean's shirt,_ he noticed – stretching the large material down on his shoulders, not noticing Dean's stare.  

Dean let his gaze linger on Cas's skin, he had tugged the large shirt down so much that Dean could see his collarbone, his shoulders. Dean couldn't help but stare, lowering his eyes to Cas's stomach covered by the large shirt, his thighs…her skin looked so soft now, nothing like the blood seeped and stabbed through flesh he had witnessed before. 

Dean sucked in a breath, feeling like his whole being was burning with love. Cas looked so beautiful, so desirable, so  _safe, so alive!_  He willed himself not to move an inch, not to reach out for Cas, not to pull him in and hold him close. He forced himself to refrain his urge to kiss Cas, touch him, breath in his scent… 

They were already so close.  

But his body seemed to have a mind of its own and moved against his better judgment. Dean stood before him, before he knew what he was doing, took hold of Cas's hand. Cas looked up at him, confusion and uncertainty reflecting in his beautiful blue eyes. 

“Cas...” He whispered despite himself, his chest heaving in and out as he seemed to have trouble breathing. He swallowed hard, using his other hand to cup Cas's cheek. 

“Dean…” Cas said, his breath hitching while his eyes stayed fixated on Dean. 

“I…” Dean swallowed again, but his mouth felt dry. He really wanted to kiss Cas. He didn't want a moment away from Cas, no more. 

Castiel’s head went into a flurry. Dean sucked in a deep breath. When had their faces moved so close? Why couldn’t he control himself? Cas whispered his name again, murmuring it like it was an endearment and closed his eyes, his lips parting. 

Cas was letting him, actually willing, and visibly giving Dean permission to kiss him. Slowly Dean pushed him back until Cas was pressed up against the wall, and hovered on top of him, reveling in the sight of him; his closed eyes, his inviting lips, his heaving chest, his flushed skin. The same, palpable anticipation seemed to take a hold of them both.  

 _They were both alive._  

While his left hand stayed on Cas's cheek, he placed his right one just below Cas's chest, inching down along Cas's waist and to his hips. His hand kept going lower, touching Cas's smooth skin, and then moved up again. All the while his face had slowly gotten closer, their panting breaths mingling as barely no space was left between their lips. 

At last, he closed the distance completely and Cas felt a shiver run along his spine and down to his toes. Dean was kissing him so gently that he felt his knees go weak. He knew he would have fallen if Dean didn’t suddenly have his arms around him, holding him closer as they slowly turned to the bed. Cas kissed him deep and hard, hungrily devouring his luscious lips, urging Dean to re-enact what his mind wanted to do. Dean let out a sharp gasp as Cas started sucking on his tongue, moaning into his mouth. 

He should have been afraid, frightened of what this meant about them both. Though he was _so happy_  that they were finally together. Their relationship could be a liability, they could be taken advantage of. But…kissing Cas...it was nothing like he'd ever felt before. It was the most powerful, the most amazing feeling. Kissing Cas didn't compare with anything – yet the more he kissed Cas, the less satisfied he got. 

He just couldn't get enough of it. He needed more. 

His lips left Cas's and moved to his neck, licking, nibbling at Cas's skin while Cas gasped and moaned in delight. Both of Dean's hands moved on Cas's hips, and his lips got lower, trailing kisses all over his neck and shoulders. His right hand then slid upwards, along Cas's stomach, around his sides and dug into his back. Cas's breathing hitched, he didn’t know what was going on, but he trusted this man, his Dean and he moved his legs to encircle Dean's waist. Dean was enjoying himself, and Cas found that everything Dean was doing felt so good.  

He ran his hands all over Dean's skin, needing to know he was okay. His large hand fondled with Dean's soft, firm flesh and his mouth suckled on Dean's skin at the base of his neck.  _Oh_ … 

Dean moaned, his tone pleading. He was panting hard, his fingers tightly gripping Cas's hair, keeping his head where it was. Cas felt a burning sensation wash over him. He was vaguely aware that they might be going too fast. But god, Dean tasted and felt so damn good – he just couldn't hold it in anymore. 

Dean lifted his head to kiss Cas again, feeling Cas's legs tightening around his midsection. His cock pressed harder between Cas's, and Cas started rubbing himself all against him; a tingling tension was building up from the friction, and Dean was itching to tear away their clothes and— 

 _Too soon_. This was too soon. 

Cas  _loved_ him. Cas was  _alive. Dean was desperate. B_ ut their love wasn't. Their love was  _more,_ thier love surpassed normal. Their souls were... one in the same 

So he couldn't do this right now. Maybe another time. Maybe when they were desperate again. But this was....

When he paused, Castiel rose up a little on his elbows. "Dean." 

Dean didn't reply. He just kept breathing, his eyes wide open and his hands resting on either side of Cas.  

“Please don't be scared, or - or upset.” Dean's voice was so small like this, murmuring through the dark. “I just love you so god damn much, and I'm a clichéd sucker, but I want our first time to be better," 

Dean's hand, reached for Cas's, fingers were just a breath away from Cas's skin, radiating a soft heat that traced their shape in the darkness. Like they had been when they had been trapped. Dean went one further, however, wrapping their fingers together tightly. 

“I'm scared, too,” Cas whispered. “But I get it, I want to remember our first time. When I saw you, and you were almost... Dean, when I thought... when you...” 

His voice broke then with a hitch, and Dean didn't think, didn't even hesitate. He breathed into the dark room and brought his hand up to Cas's face, to gently hold it against his cheek. 

They didn't need to talk after that. Dean let out a soft, shuddering sigh as Cas turned into his touch, eyelashes brushing Dean's skin; and of  _course_  it was impossible, but it seemed to Cas that the room wasn't dark anymore like this, with his eyes closed, with the weight of Dean's body cautiously drawing closer. They could see so clearly this way. They could see all the way into each other, so that Dean didn't even need to ask before he took Cas into the warmth of his arms, and Cas didn't even blush when she turned his face into the soft heat of Dean's chest. 

Later they would whisper to each other, quiet questions and quiet confessions, long into the night. There would be hesitation and uncertainty, maybe; a chill in the air for the first few moments after the dark disappeared. But right now, this was all they needed to feel, and everything they needed to see - the sound of each other's breath, the heat of each other's fingertips. 


End file.
